


Nymeria Stark

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, R Plus L Equals J, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nymeria Stark, second daughter of Lord Eddard, was not the type of woman to settle down and marry, but after a fixed betrothal, she finds herself thrust into married life, war and royal service. Though will the Northern Princess survive and conquer her enemies, or will she crumble?





	1. Winter Is Coming

“Robert Baratheon loved our Aunt Lyanna, so when Rhaegar Targaryen stole her from Storm’s End in the dead of night, he rose up in rebellion. Our father joined in after the murder of his father and brother at the hands of King Aerys, the Mad King. The Tullys and Arryns sided with Robert and Father due to marriage.” Bran Stark read aloud from Maester Luwin’s notes, occasionally sweeping his dark brown hair out of his eyes, as it constantly fell into them. Beside him, listening intently to mark his progress was his older sister, Nymeria Stark. Dark brown curls framed a pale, angular face with bright brown eyes and rosy red lips, which all added to her beauty.

“Go on, Bran.” Her sweet soft tone was a far cry from Sansa’s sickly, sycophantic simper or Arya’s harsh, occasionally almost masculine, tone. A gentle touch for a gentle teacher, Bran had always told her, especially when he wanted her praise.

“Rhaegar annulled his marriage to his wife, Princess Elia Martell of Dorne, and promptly married Aunt Lyanna who soon gave birth to the heir to the throne, Jon Targaryen – a distinctly Northern name for the new prince.” Bran glanced up at Nymeria with a large grin, but she merely shook her head at her little brother.

“As is Nymeria a distinctly Southern name for a Northerner. Anyway, if you say that to Maester Luwin, he will not be pleased.” Nymeria chastised, but her smile made it less harsh for little Bran, who beamed back at her.

“Sorry, Nym. Erm, anyway, at the Battle of the Trident, Rhaegar defeated Robert but refused to kill him for Aunt Lyanna’s sake. Sir Jaime Lannister, however, slew King Aerys to protect the innocent and Elia and her children, but no one knows why they were. Rhaegar was inconsolable for a time, but his duty and love for his queen made him focus on repairing the Seven Kingdoms and healing old wounds. Robert was then wedded to Cersei Lannister; Father married Mother, and Sansa is now going to wed Theon.” At merely two and ten, Bran was an intelligent member of the Stark family, something that his siblings and parents praised. He had dreams of being a knight, but as well as honour, he wished to be smart enough to know when to be merciful.

“Yes, she is because she is a maid of six and ten now and he’s nine and ten. They’re happy, and it will help ease the tension between the Iron Islands and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Besides, who wouldn’t want to marry Sansa?” There was only a year’s difference between the two older Stark girls, though Sansa was often considered the jewel of the family with auburn hair and bright Tully blue eyes. Nymeria couldn’t help but feel jealous of her sister, but she knew how to keep it to herself.

Most of the time, at least.

“You’re beautiful as well, Nym.” Bran murmured, a small smile on his lips and he gently wrapped his arms around his older sister, who held onto him tightly. Nymeria had always favoured the company of her brothers. She did find her sisters pleasant, at times, especially Arya, who she spared with, but the boys accepted her more. In particular, Bran and Rickon favoured her as their favourite teacher.

“You’re sweet to say that, Bran.” Nymeria murmured, pressing a light kiss to his forehead and then turning away to tidy up the table. With her back to the door, Nymeria didn’t notice the figure entering the room, but Bran did.

“Nym?” He called out, alerting the young woman, who spun around to face him. Even then, she did not see the man waiting for her to acknowledge him. The young woman was focused solely on the little boy before her.

“Yes, Bran?” She asked, moving towards him, fearful that there was something wrong or something that troubled him until she followed his line of sight. Only then did she notice the man at the door, and a small smile graced her lips. “Sir Rodrick, I offer my apologies for not noticing you earlier. Is all well?”

“My Lady Nym, I’m afraid that there has been a deserter captured south of The Wall, and Lord Eddard has decided that Brandon is old enough to come along.” The old knight informed them, feeling a twinge of sorrow for the boy. He had often hoped that Bran would never need to grow up to see this act, but he needed to learn the old way. However, that was not all he needed to say, and he turned to face the young woman. “My Lady, your presence has been requested by your mother.”

“Very well.” Nymeria nodded her head, knowing better than to refuse a direct summons from her mother. “Bran, go with Sir Rodrick and do not look away when the time comes. Father will know if you do. Remember you are a Northerner and you are much braver than that of those of the South.” The young boy nodded once at his sister before she turned back to the knight and asked: “Where is my Lady Mother, Sir Rodrick?”

“She is in the Great Hall, My Lady.” He informed her before indicating for Bran to follow him to where his father was waiting. Nymeria watched her brother leave with the old knight before smoothing her black dress, and then she proceeded to leave the library.

Walking through the main courtyard of Winterfell, she watched the workers and inhabitants of the castle prepare for the wedding. She smiled at each and every one of them, enchanting them all, and many young men strained to get a look at the woman all referred to as the Winter Princess.

However, her smile did not last.

It faded the moment she entered the hall. There she was met by the sight of her mother and two sisters waiting for them along with Septa Mordane, who glowered at the middle Stark girl. She had publicly renounced the New Gods for the Old little over a year before, and the Septa could not stand her, or her sister.

“Nymeria! There you are!” Catelyn cried, beckoning for Nymeria to come towards her. There were no similarities between the two women; Catelyn was a true Southerner whereas her daughter couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than the Northerner lady that she was.

“Lady Mother, Sir Rodrick informed me that you wished to speak with me.” Nymeria simpered at her mother before moving to stand beside her youngest sister. Arya always preferred being in the company of Nymeria especially when she was with the other three women gathered there.

“Yes, Nym.” Catelyn nodded before exchanging a glance with the Septa beside her, who was smirking over at the younger two Stark girls. She had finally gotten her way, and she was delighted at that. “Your Lord Father and I have decided that you and Arya are of an age to be betrothed and well, in your case, Nymeria, you are ready for marriage.”

Both of the brunette girls stared at their mother in disbelief. Neither was at all happy about the arrangement, and they certainly weren’t about to accept that easily, though only Nymeria spoke up against it. “I beg your pardon, Lady Mother, but I am afraid that I don’t quite comprehend. Father had promised both Arya and I that we would have the choice to decide when we were ready to marry.” She glanced between Catelyn and the Septa, glowering at the latter before adding: “This is something that you and the Septa have decided without so much as asking Arya and I if we wanted it.”

The older of the two adult women blanched for a moment before she flushed with fury and took a step towards the fifteen-year-old. “You should be grateful that the Seven are blessing-” She was cut off by the look that she was sent by Nymeria. It was enough to chill the blood, and she gulped before stepping back.

“I do not believe in the Seven.” Nymeria’s growl was reminiscent of the direwolf on her banners and was enough to make the bravest soldier back up in fear. “I am a Stark of Winterfell, and the blood of the First Men flows through my veins, Septa. You would be good to remember that my Gods are the Old Gods. I worship the Nameless, Faceless Gods of the First Men and the Children in the Forest.” Nymeria took a step towards her advisory, her dark eyes narrowed in fury. “The Seven have nothing to do with my life, thank you very much.”

Stepping back, Nymeria seethed with rage while all stared at her in disbelief, or in Arya’s case, in awe. It was only after a few moments that Sansa decided to break the uneasy silence in her usual sycophantic simper. “Lady Mother, I for one am so grateful that King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna can attend my wedding and I cannot wait to meet them.” As Sansa beamed up at her mother and the Septa, her two younger sisters exchanged a glance of disgust.

All of a sudden, the doors to the hall flew open, and all of the women turned to face the intruders. Lord Eddard Stark, a slender man with narrow features, entered the room with his sons and retinue. Even his youngest son, Rickon was with him, but he had been escorted there by Maester Luwin. The usually stern-faced man smiled at the women, and that was enough for Nymeria and Arya to run towards their father and brothers.

Arya was swept up in Robb’s arms and clung to him and Bran, making sure that the youngest of the three was alright after what he had just witnessed while Nymeria wrapped her arms tightly around her father. “My sweet, little Nym.” He muttered in her hair before he pressed a light kiss to her temple tenderly. Only then did he release her and allow her youngest brothers to run to her while he addressed the room. “His Grace, King Rhaegar of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals and The First Men and his wife, Queen Lyanna of House Stark, allow with all their family and retinue shall be arriving on the morrow, and I expect all of you to ready yourselves tonight.” All of those present rushed off to different areas of the castle. Yet, as Nymeria passed her father, he grabbed her arm and added: “Not you, Nym.”

Turning back, only then did she notice that Ice, the ancestral sword of House Stark was attached to his belt, and she knew that he expected her to go to the Godswood with him. Falling into step with her father, she remained silent as always as they made the short walk to the Godswood with him. Ever since she was a young child, she had made this trek, comforting him as he sat among their Gods, tenderly removing the blood off of Ice.

Once they were sat beneath the Heart Tree, Eddard turned to Nymeria. “I know that you are not pleased to hear that you will be betrothed soon, but you know it is your duty, and we must all live by it, no matter what we desire.” He reminded her, wiping Ice’s blade as he did so as if reminding her of the duty he had to perform and that she too had to share that burden for House Stark, though in a different way.

“I had hoped that it wouldn’t be so soon.” She admitted quietly, her eyes never leaving the smoky grey surface of the pool before the pond. She didn’t glance up at him, though if she had, she might have noticed the movement of the direwolf pup concealed beneath his cloak.

“I know, but we must do our duty to the North.” Eddard reminded his daughter. “Even the She-wolf has to bow down to protect her pack.” At that Nymeria’s head snapped to the side so that she could look at her father. Their eyes met, and she conceded that he was right.

“Winter is coming,” Nymeria stated, knowing that it was safer to conceive and give birth in Summer in the warmer atmosphere than in the Winter, which could dominate her lifetime. She also knew that she was of age to be married, and she knew that she had to honour her duty to her family, and she would do just that.

“Aye, it is.” Eddard nodded glumly, but then a small flickering smile graced his lips. “Yet, on the subject of Winter and She-wolves, Bran and Robb found seven direwolf pups earlier. Three of them were female, four male. The boys will have given your sisters theirs, but I thought this one was perfect for you.” He produced the small, black pup from the inside of his cloak and presented it to his daughter.

Nymeria took the pup and examined it, noting that the amongst the mass of black were silvers and greys, in particular on the ears and around the paws. The pup itself had silver eyes that met Nymeria’s gaze, and she tentatively licked the young woman’s hand. “Thank you, Father.” Nymeria gazed down at the pup tenderly and added: “Hmm, I think I shall name you Shadow.”

“Perfect. A She-wolf for our Stark She-wolf.” Ned beamed before adding: “The fourth male pup was an albino which I believe would be perfect for your cousin, Jon when he arrives here. According to Lyanna, he is a Stark in every sense apart from the fact that he is able to stand much higher temperatures than we can.” Eddard chuckled at the thought and pulled his daughter closer to him.

“Father, who do you wish for me to be betrothed to?” She finally asked cautiously, her eyes wide and slightly fearful. Ned’s soft smile faded, and he let out a heavy sigh, knowing that Nymeria deserved to know the truth.

“There have been many suggestions, Nym. However, Arya is to be betrothed to Gendry Baratheon on her next name day so you won’t be married into that family. Then, there is Lord Tyrion’s son, Podrick, who I believe is a very pleasant well-mannered boy. Then potentially there is Trystane Martell, which would help us ease tensions between the North and South. Perhaps, if we cannot secure Robb’s marriage to Margaery Tyrell, then Loras Tyrell will be suggested.” Ned paused, noticing that Nymeria was absorbing this all with an unreadable expression, but he did not question. “And Jon Targaryen has been suggested too.”

Nymeria sat up straight at that. She had not been expecting to hear that, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether she had heard correctly. “Jon? My cousin Jon?” It was not uncommon for cousins to be married, and was often preferable, especially with now how divided the North and South were.

“Yes, Jon would be an excellent match for you, Nym. He would be a loyal husband, and you would become first a princess, and then you’ll be the queen.” Eddard pointed out before rising slowly and holding a hand out to pull her up. “Just think on it, and get some rest. You will always have a say.” With that, he walked off with Ice at his side. Only then did Nymeria turn to her small direwolf pup, who whimpered softly up at her.

“Winter is coming, Shadow, and it’s coming for us all.”


	2. The Targaryen Visit

Chapter 2 – The Targaryen Visit

 

Nymeria awoke the next day to the sight of her maid, Irri, laying out a scarlet and black dress for her to wear along with her black cloak. It was one of her more beautiful dresses, and Nymeria couldn’t deny that she did love it, but she knew that her mother was the one who had ordered that she must wear it, and for that, she found herself grimacing.

With a heavy sigh, Nymeria swung her legs over the side of her bed, alerting the young servant girl entering the room, and she smiled at her as the young girl curtseyed to her mistress. Irri had been a slave until Eddard had found her and liberated her. She had soft brown eyes, long raven hair and a caramel complexion.

“My Lady, would you like me to help you into your dress?” Her sweet soft smile and gentle gaze never once made Nymeria feel uneasy. In fact, the other girl found herself grateful to Irri and nodded eagerly.

“Please.” And with that, Irri helped remove the overcomplicated nightdress, that tied in every possible way around Nymeria’s body and then managed to lock her into her new dress. It was tight fitting and clung to the swell of her breasts while emphasising her thin waist. The rich colour emphasised her flawless skin and brought attention to her elegant curls and bright eyes. She felt like an imposter in this dress, but she couldn’t deny that she did look lovely in it.

“There, all done, My Lady.” Irri beamed at her and Nymeria spin around to show her made the fabric and to make sure all was in place. The crimson material fanned out in every direction while the black swirls curled around her form. “I dare say that your beauty will outshine that of your mother and sister too,” Irri added, and Nymeria didn’t need to ask which sister she was referring to, already knowing that she was compared most to Sansa.

“Thank you, Irri.” With that, the young servant curtseyed and left the room as Nymeria turned to her direwolf who had been watching her. “Come on, Shadow.” The black direwolf bounded over to her mistress and followed her out of the room. Servants spotted the pair and stopped and stared, but neither Nymeria nor Shadow made any noise of annoyance. In fact, neither made any noise until they entered the hall where Shadow ran off to play with her brothers and sisters.

“Good morning, Nym.” Robb beckoned for his sister to come and sit with him while the rest of the family gathered to break their fast. As always, Sansa and Catelyn were deep in conversation while Ned remained with his youngest four children.

“Brother, how are you?” Nymeria greeted, sitting beside her brother and picking up some bread and nibbling at it while she watched him with a slight smile. Her bright eyes scarcely missed a thing, and Robb knew better than to lie to her.

“Well rested and optimistic for the wedding,” Robb informed her, looking forward to seeing his sister and his best friend united in love and joy. There was something about it that he just couldn’t help but smile about, and he knew that both would be happy.

“I’m glad.” Nymeria offered her brother a small smile before turning back to her meal. The mention of the wedding only highlighted the reality that would soon be hers. She too was now being sold off like a pawn for her parents make stronger alliances between all of the other Kingdoms in the continent.

“And you?” Robb pulled Nymeria out of her thoughts, and she turned her head sharply back to him. Unlike with her mother, Sansa and younger siblings, Nymeria could never lie to Robb, or her father, so with a heavy sigh, she replied.

“Frustrated, but I’ll get over it,” Nymeria confessed, running a hand over her ever-present direwolf pendent. As if the action called to her, Shadow bounded over to her mistress and hopped onto her lap, where she curled up and stared up at Nymeria with wide silver eyes.

“Is this about the betrothal?” Robb asked, cocking his head to the side, his eyes scanning Nymeria’s face intently. He noticed her flinching at the mention of it, and he didn’t even neither her confirmation to tell him that she wasn’t happy about it.

“Yes.” Nymeria nodded. Her eyes left Robb’s, and she focused her attention on her direwolf, who preened at her touch. Nymeria skimmed her hand over the soft fur, a small smile gracing her lips while Robb watched her.

“You know that even I’m expected to marry for our family?” Robb pointed out, halting Nymeria’s movements and she jerked her head up to look at her older brother. She had heard nothing of this marriage, and for a long moment, she stared at him in shock.

“Who are you marrying?” Nymeria asked, cocking her head to the side and her eyes widened at him. There was something quite perplexing about it. She couldn’t quite comprehend why the son and heir of Winterfell would be sold off, but it was to whom that she was curious about.

“Margaery Tyrell.” Robb sighed, having heard so much upon the subject that he didn’t want to talk about it, but for now, he supposed that he should tell Nymeria about it. Especially when she was in the same situation as he was.

“Isn’t she called the prettiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms?” Nymeria asked after she had processed what her brother had just informed her. She had no idea what would happen next, with them but she knew that at least Robb would be happy. That was all but certain.

“Evidently they have never seen either you, Sansa or Arya.” Robb smiled, watching his sister roll her eyes at him before she shook her head at him. Though, nothing could be done to hide her smile as she looked at him.

“Whatever you say.”

...

“NYM! NYM!” Bran yelled from up on the battlements. Nymeria looked up to see her little brother waving down at her from his place up high, and she shook her head over at him. She had forgotten that Bran would be unsupervised for a while, and she should have known that he would take that opportunity to climb again.

“Bran! Bran!” Nymeria echoed crossing over to him and looking up, mild fear flooding her at the sight even though she knew that Bran was always sure-footed. However, like both her parents, she couldn’t help but worry about her little brother.

“Not funny, Nym.” Bran rolled his eyes, climbing down to one of the ledges and turning to look at her, remembering what he was going to say to her. “Anyway, I saw the King’s banners. They’re almost here.”

“And if Lady Mother sees you up there, she’ll be irritated with you.” Nymeria pointed out, and with a heavy sigh, Bran clambered down nimbly to reach a more substantial ledge before he turned to face his older sister. It was at that point that Nymeria’s heart to slow down, but she was still worried as he was still several feet above her.

“But what of the King?” Bran asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion. He was desperate to know what would take place when the King arrived at Winterfell. He had never witnessed a royal visit, but then again, nor had Nymeria.

“We’ll tell her as soon as you get down from there,” Nymeria stated and with that Bran rolled his eyes at his older sister, but he conceded that she was right. He also knew better than to argue with her about this.

“Fine.” Bran sighed and swiftly clambered down before hopping off the final ledge in front of Nymeria. There was a twinkle in his eyes that she scarcely ever saw, and even though she didn’t want to, she smiled at that as Bran asked: “Can we go now?”

“Yes, let’s go.” Nymeria nodded, leading Bran into the castle once more with Shadow and Summer walking behind them.

...

“His Royal Highness, King Rhaegar of House Targaryen, First of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, the Andals and the First Men!” Rhaegar’s Servant yelled once all of the castle’s staff and inhabitants had gathered with the Starks in the front row and Theon just behind.

Only then did Rhaegar ride inside of Winterfell and trot in front of them on an onyx coloured horse, prompting all to sink into low bows. The King was dressed in thick black silks with red accents, and his silvery blond hair rested on his shoulders with a golden crown nestled amongst the curls. His deep violet eyes swept over the crowd with an uneasy, yet grateful gleam.

“And Her Royal Highness, Queen Lyanna of House Stark!”

Lyanna rode in after her husband, but unlike him, she looked at ease. She was home after all. Her dark brown hair fell below her shoulder blades with a silver crown on her hair. Dressed in dark grey, she was the perfect Stark lady, and she knew it.

“Crown Prince Jon of House Targaryen!”

All eyes shifted to the oldest child of the monarchs, and Nymeria found herself lost in his dark violet gaze. He was muscular, but not too brawny and unlike his father, he had thick black curls that looked soft to the touch. Dressed in all black, he wore no crown and held himself like a warrior and not a prince with his hand always resting on his sword.

“Prince Rickard and Princess Visenya!”  

Eyes diverted to the youngest two Targaryens, who were the perfect image of Targaryen royals. Matching silvery blond hair and purple eyes, the two children held themselves above the others, not looking at anyone before them.

“Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys!”

The final two royals, the siblings of Rhaegar, were very different from one another. Viserys was stony-faced and impassive. He cared not for anyone gathered there before him. Daenerys, on the other hand, smiled at all and brought a radiant light with her.

“Rise up. I am your guest, and you bow not to me.” Rhaegar’s voice boomed around the courtyard, and all of the household of the Starks rose. Only then did Rhaegar dismount and walk over to Eddard, who he wrapped in a tight, brotherly hug as the rest of the royal party arrived. “Ned, it’s been too long.”

“That it has Rhaegar.” Ned agreed, smiling at his brother-in-law. Rhaegar nodded and then parted from his Warden of the North before turning to the rest of the Stark family. He couldn’t hold back his smile and made to greet each of them.

“Catelyn, I have certainly missed you, and you will always be welcome in Kings’ Landing.” Rhaegar pressed his lips to the back of her hand, his eyes light and cheerful, though he had been too keen on the woman before him.

“I hope to visit one day, Rhaegar,” Catelyn assured him, allowing Rhaegar to presume that she wanted more than anything else for this visit to end in Nymeria’s betrothal with Jon being the prized choice. It was then that he recoiled and turned to Robb.

“Ahh, you must be Robb. You have grown since I last saw you. I think you were only up to my knee and were dragging around a wooden sword when I last saw you. I look forward to seeing how you’ve come on since then.” Rhaegar felt more at ease with a fellow fighter, and he knew that Robb Stark would never disappoint either his family or the royal family.

“I look forward to showing you,” Robb assured him, a boyish smile gracing the young man’s face. At that, Rhaegar panted his shoulder and then moved onto the first of Eddard’s daughters. His eyes widened for a moment before he greeted Sansa.

“Lady Sansa! My, my, you’re a hidden Southern jewel in the frozen North. We’ll have to bring you to the South and allow the rest of the world to see you after your marriage.” Rhaegar examined her gently and beamed at her.

“I hope to see it one day too,” Sansa assured him, blushing from his compliment and simpering her response like the proper lady she was.

“And Nymeria – I must say I’m surprised not to see a sword attached to your belt. According to all, you’re more fearsome than your brother.” Rhaegar chuckled at that, and Nymeria inclined her head to agree with him.

“No one is as fierce as a She-wolf.” Nymeria reminded him, shifted from foot to foot, and revealing Shadow, who poked her head out from beneath Nymeria’s cloak. Rhaegar’s eyes naturally found the wolf, and he smiled at the two of them.

“Very true.” Rhaegar inclined his head at her before gently embracing her. All around them eyes widened, but Nymeria paid no heed to it as Rhaegar whispered: “I know you’re not happy about the betrothal plans, but I hope you will be content with your husband, and I will do all I can to ensure it.”

“Thank you.” Nymeria beamed at him before they parted and Rhaegar and Lyanna greeted all of the children, though, unlike her husband, Lyanna embraced all of them. In particular, she clung to her older brother and refused to let go for over a minute.

When all was done, and the House of Targaryen moved to face to the House of Stark, Ned stepped forward to address the entire crowd. Yet, before he did, he pulled out the larger, white wolf pup and faced his guests. “Rhaegar, Lyanna, I would like to gift your son, Jon with one of the seven direwolves that were found just north of Winterfell.”

“Thank you, Lord Eddard.” Jon stepped forward, bowing his head in gratitude before taking the direwolf carefully into his own grasp. The wolf pup stared up at him with ruby red eyes and Jon instantly knew what he would call him. “Ghost.” The crowd watched him step back, but before he could join his family, Catelyn had stepped forward and had grabbed Nymeria’s hand.

“And we would also like to introduce you to our daughter, Nymeria,” Catelyn announced, prompting Nymeria to curtsey, but Jon, quickly grasped her hands, halting her actions. Violet eyes met brown, and the pair stared at one another transfixed for a moment.

“My Prince, it is an honour to meet you,” Nymeria spoke softly, but in the stunned silence of the courtyard, all heard her speak. They also caught the slight tremor of her voice, and as Catelyn stepped back, they saw that she shook slightly. Jon, on the other hand, stood there with the pose of both a soldier and prince before he bowed before her and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. His eyes never left hers, and his lips lingered longer than was acceptable before he straightened up and spoke to her.

“Trust me, the honour is mine, My Lady Nymeria.”


End file.
